


Stupid Rain

by zumikawa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Affectionate Iwaizumi Hajime, Crying Oikawa Tooru, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Oikawa Just Wants To Sleep, iwaizumi best boi, like a really bad day, oikawa has a bad day, this is my first fic pls forgive me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:02:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24274000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zumikawa/pseuds/zumikawa
Summary: Oikawa’s awfully dead tired, pissed, and probably on the verge of crying. Thankfully, someone’s there to cheer him up.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 6
Kudos: 205





	Stupid Rain

**Author's Note:**

> AHH hello! this is my first fic ever, and its iwaoi, just really wanted some really sweet iwa- i hope you like it :P

Tooru’s alone in his office room, probably one of the few still in the building. It was dark, but his desk was illuminated by a small lamp. Leaning against his chair with a sound, he glances at his wristwatch. It’s currently 9:57pm. It’s only evening, but he could feel the rising ache on his back start spiraling to his lower neck. He knew complaining wouldn’t do him any good, yet he quietly curses under his breath.

_God, I feel like an old man._

Normally by this time he and Hajime would have already eaten dinner—probably watching a movie together, but unfortunately due to work the couple have barely seen each other during sunlight hours for the past two weeks. Spread on the desk below him were several unorganized files and research papers. He took his glasses off and roughly rubs a hand across his face, letting out a deep sigh at the sight.

_Fuck it. Fuck this stupid report!_

He decides to call it a day and quickly packs the research papers he’d been working on for the past God-knows how long, and shoves them not too gently in his briefcase bag. Switching the lights off, he turned on his heel and walked across the hallway and towards the elevator. Pressing the floor buttons he shuts his eyes and reminisces the embarrassing criticism of his boss earlier.

_“Iwaizumi Tooru, you are one excellent journalist- but what the hell is this? You’re shitting me right? Get your act together! You could do so much better than-“_

He lets out a deep sigh. The elevator doors open and he took a slow stride out. He passes by Kindaichi, their receptionist, who greets him a good evening. Tooru gives him a nod of acknowledgement, not bothering to open his mouth as he’s too tired to say anything at all. He picks up his pace and heads outside of the office building to find his parked Toyota. After fishing for his keys, he pauses to take a look at the reflection on the window. His neat, delicate, wavy hair was no longer in tact, but rather in a tousled mess, small hairs sticking in every direction. Some were long enough to irritate his eyes— which came along with dark rings under them. His posture wasn’t looking good, either. 

“Damn, I look like shit,” he breathes out. 

Tooru settles down in the drivers seat and blankly stares at nothing–he was literally being the epitome of _no thoughts, head empty._ Slowly exhaling, he starts hitting his forehead on the driving wheel. 

_Thump._

“Ow.”

_Thump._

“Ow.”

_Thump._

“Ow.”

He lets out another exasperated sigh and continues hitting his head countless times with each consistent thump getting faster until a wave of pain crashed over his temples. 

_Great. Now I have a headache. Absolutely wonderful._ Massaging the bridge of his nose, he sighs in frustration. 

After what felt like an eternity, the engines start running. He hopes that he wouldn’t doze off while driving, the thought of accidentally crashing into a tree or any other vehicle popped in his head. Fortunately, there weren’t many cars on the road. The light trickling of raindrops beating against the windows and the city’s twinkling lights made him feel drowsy. He’s just waiting to crash into bed the minute he gets home.

Pulling up in the driveway of his home, the rain started pouring heavily. To make matters worse, he didn’t have an umbrella with him— which he blames entirely on himself because Hajime would always remind him to bring one wherever he goes. Tooru’s just too stubborn to listen. Turning off the engines, he decides to make a run for it, using his work coat as a makeshift cover. He dashes through the rain and shelters himself under the porch. Just as he steps in front the doorpost, realization had hit him like a truck. He accidentally left his work bag in his car—which contained the keys to the house. 

“Goddamnit.” He groans.

He and Hajime had a dispute over Tooru’s idea of hiding spare house keys under a pot or rug outside the house, but Hajime insisted both of them should keep their own key instead—in case someone breaks in. Tooru thought that was just stupid and very unlikely, but he heeded his husband’s words in defeat. He runs back to the car, not bothering to cover himself with the coat anymore and grabs the bag. The sudden clap of thunder surprised him, resulting him to kick his polished shoes against the mud. He finally reaches the door and quickly gets inside. _Oh god finally, I’m home._

Just as he the door behind him closes, the sound of the trickling fades away—taking him a second to realize that the rain had stopped abruptly. 

“What the fuck,” he whines, looking out the window.

 _Today‘s really a bad day for me, huh._

Tooru kicks his shoes off and takes a mental note to give it a scrub tomorrow. He’s fully drenched from head to toe and basically dripping in the middle of the livingroom. Hajime’s gonna be wondering why the fuck there’s a puddle in front of their sofa but he doesn’t seem to care as he starts stripping his wet suit off and loosened tie, throwing the articles of clothing out somewhere in a dark corner. He uses his feet to kick his dirty socks off from where he’s standing and heads to the kitchen to dry his hair, face, arms, and feet, basically everything wet, all together with a small towel. Then came a _sneeze._

And another sneeze.

“Stupid rain,” He cursed.

He tries to unbutton his still slightly wet collar shirt but failed after popping 2 buttons. The tired man hadn’t eaten dinner yet, but he didn’t have the appetite to eat. He finds his way to their bedroom along with his work bag and turning on the lights, he sets it on the desk. He takes out his phone to inform Hajime he’s gotten home. Squinting at the sudden brightness, he types away. 

**You:** i mhomme

**[Sent at 10:34pm]**

He doesn’t even bother correcting the typos and tosses his phone somewhere in the room. He takes out the paperwork he was required to fill in and-

“Goddamnit!” He yells in frustration. He took out them out with a sigh of defeat. Some of the papers were either wet, crumpled, ripped, or a mixture of three due to the rain, and he needed these submitted by tomorrow morning. He gives up and crashes too hard on the soft bed behind him. He’s not fully dry, but at least he’s dry enough to lie down. He takes a deep breath and tries to forget the unfortunate events which occured that day.

* * *

Its currently 10:36pm and Hajime had just left the confines of his workplace with the smell of rain still fresh. It had been a hot day; Hajime shifts his gaze up at the night sky, thankful he’s walking home embraced by cool refreshing air. He receives a notification from his phone, taps the little icon and opens the message from his partner. 

**Tooru:** i mhomme

**[Received at 10:34 pm]**

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and begins tapping away on his phone.

**You:** pls dont be drunk

**[Sent at 10:38 pm]**

**You:** I’m on my way home too

**[Sent at 10:38 pm]**

**You:** have you had dinner yet?

**[Sent at 10:39 pm]**

Shoving his phone down his pocket, he continues walking down the quiet street. After a few traffic lights and crosses, he passes by one of the 24-hour mini marts and decides to take a look out of impulse. He grabs a two instant rice balls for midnight munching along with Tooru’s favorite milk bread and sets them down on the cashier counter. Ukai, the cashier who they happened to be acquainted with, greeted him a good night after scanning the products. Paying by loose change, Hajime exchanged his greetings and turned on his heel.

He reaches the comfort of his home after a short walk, grateful his workplace isn’t far unlike Tooru’s. He neatly sets aside his shoes, walks through the dark and plops the plastic bag on the kitchen counter. He heads towards the livingroom and the moment he flicks the lights on he’s greeted by a wet mess. He lets out a small sound of confusion and slightly gapes at the sight. 

_What the..._

He bent over to pick up an article of clothing which he supposes was Tooru’s fully drenched jacket, and tried to stop its the dripping of water continuing from his grasp. _Did it flood or something?_ He thought as he collected the discarded tie and socks scattered across the room. Holding onto the coffee table for support he uses his feet to wipe the dampened floor with the rug of the door. He continues quietly wiping the trail of wet visible foot prints on the floor trailing towards the hallway. Bright light was filtered through the gap under the door of their bedroom-which was an indication that Tooru was probably still awake.

Facing the door he turns the knob preparing to lecture the unlucky bastard. 

“Oi, why the hell did you leave your wet clothes on the-“ 

The door swung open revealing Tooru laying in bed, back facing him. He was curled up in a fetal position, still wearing his damp collar shirt.

“Oh.” 

He shuts himself up, forgetting whatever he was supposed to say earlier. Eyes softening at the sight, Hajime quietly closes the door behind him and strides inside. He stoops down to pick up the blanket which barely clung on the edge of the bed, the rest of it pushed away and abandoned on the floor. Making his way towards the other side of the bed, he pulls the blanket along with him, draping it over Tooru’s body. He’s now standing opposite from where he entered, nearly kneeling as he tidies away the stray hairs from his partner’s face. Tooru’s eyes blink open at the movement, looking up to meet his gaze. Red eyes and dark visible rings caught Hajime’s attention. _He hasn’t been sleeping..._

“Gosh, Tooru, you look horrible.” He exhales, tucking away a few more hairs behind his ear. Tooru’s eyes are wide open, but he‘s staring blankly at nothing.

“I passed by Ukai’s, got you your favorite milkbread,” the bed creaks, Hajime adjusting himself as he sat on the bed beside him. 

“Have you eaten dinner, yet?” 

He awaits for a response but gets none back. He looks down to check if Tooru dozed off while he was still talking, but he’s still there. Wide awake. Hajime frowns. 

“...Tooru?”

_Nothing._

_Okay, this is weird._ Tooru wasn’t responding to him at all. Worry starts growing in Hajime’s stomach. Yeah, they bicker and fight every now and then but its usually resolved after an hour or two. A non-responsive Tooru is scary. The longest silent treatment lasted nearly a day, but they always manage to find in each other cuddling under the sheets every single night.

But the Tooru he’s beside right now was just...A whole lot different. The silence was frightening.

 _Did I do something wrong? Is he mad at me? Did I say something?_ A hundred scenarios resulting badly jumped in his mind and braced for the worst.

“Hey,” he begins slowly, “I just want you to remember that I love you, alright?” He pauses, shifting his gaze at the other. “You know you can tell me anything...” 

Tooru finally moves for the first time since Hajime came in, twisting his head to hide his face on the covers of the pillow. Then he hears sniffling. Taken aback, Hajime quickly shuffles on the bed, nearly pressing himself against his back.

“Tooru?” 

He began to cry quietly at first hiding himself against the face of the pillow, and then gradually louder choked sobs filled the silence of the room.

“Woah, Tooru, hey, what’s wrong?” 

Suddenly turning to face Hajime, he shoves his head against his neck, continuing to cry as Hajime brings him closer into a hug.

“Shh...It’s okay...”

Tooru jerks up abruptly, pushing away from his partner’s arms. He sits up, and so does Hajime. He begins bawling.

“No! It’s not...” he hiccups. “I...It’s not okay, I’m not okay!” Hajime remains silent, not sure what to do. Tooru brings a hand over his face and lets it rest at the nape of his neck. He tries calming himself before explaining how awful his day went.

“First,” he croaks, “I was supposed to attend a very important meeting at 7:30 in the morning, but I got a flat tire after hitting a curb going too fast which resulted me coming in work an hour and a half later because I had to fix it, then I ran into Ushi-fucking-Waka, asking me to partner with him in some case which I’ve told him no several fucking times but he’s too much of an ass to remember, then— oh God, can you imagine someone bursting into your office room making out with someone else because they thought it was an empty room and they didn’t realize you were there until you had to stop them yourself from stripping each other down?” Tooru was rambling too fast for Hajime to register everything he had said but he knew his partner had a horrible day. 

“Hajime, can you imagine?” 

“I don’t think I want to,” Hajime replied.

“Well, I had to witness Hanamaki and Matsukawa eat each other’s face off and it was horrible, Hajime, they looked like fish out of water gasping for air-Stop laughing, its not funny! I was in a crisis, how could you laugh at me like this.” Tooru whines, pushing his partner’s shoulders away from him. 

“I’m not laughing.” Hajime says, trying to hide a smile. 

“Anyways, I wasn’t finished yet—Daichi and Suga couldn’t stop eye-fucking each other it was so distracting I couldn’t focus at all and then Bokuto and Kuroo come in prancing around destroying every single one of my brain cells and asked me for permission to use the copy room so they could print pictures of their asses, those idiots,” he groans in frustration and pauses for a while before continuing, “and then the coffee machine broke-“ he holds back a sob.

“But...You don’t even like coffee.” 

“I know!” He puts his hand to massage his temples, and begins tearing up again. “Now I have a huge-ass headache right now and I’m just feeling super overwhelmed with so many things to do- Hell, I need to finish writing three stupid reports in one week and have one submitted by tomorrow but...” he chokes out a sob,”T-the rain ruined it all and I’m so fucking pissed I-I...” Hajime places his hands under Tooru’s arms and hugs him from behind. He goes silent for a bit, as he tries to calm himself down. 

“Then my boss told me I was bullshitting my work and-“ and Tooru loses it. He’s crying even harder, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Am I overreacting? God, I think I’m just overreacting, I’m s-sorry it’s just-“ 

“Hey, no. It’s fine, Tooru, you’re not overreacting at all. You’re stressed, I understand.”

“I just... don’t wanna...” he hiccups.

“Shh...” He brings Tooru to lie down again, hovering above him. He brings a free hand to cup the side of his face, dragging his thumb gently against the skin. Hajime brings himself to kiss the stray tear falling down his left cheek, and moves upwards slowly, pressing butterfly kisses. He reaches his temples, and plants small kisses trailing up against his forehead, stopping to look at Tooru who was calming down on every kiss, but was still tearing up. He repeats the same on the other side of his face consecutively—cheeks, temples, forehead—and starts making his way downwards. He plants kisses on the bridge of his nose, descending down his chin, then taking longer kisses down the side of his jaw. 

“...Hajimeeee...stop...” Tooru whimpers. 

“Eh...I don’t feel like stopping.” 

Hajime brings himself from his jaw to his cheek again, implanting more and more small kisses, exploring every part of his face.

“I miss you.” Hajime whispers. Tooru hums in acknowledgment, voice drained from rambling and crying. He continues kissing his face until Tooru’s had enough. Pulling his hand from beneath and bringing it under Hajime’s shirt, he lets it hover above his hips, knowing for a fact that he’s ticklish there. Eyes glinting with mischief, Tooru starts attacking the sensitive spot making Hajime jump. 

“Ah- hey!” Grabbing the nearest pillow on instinct, Hajime slams it against Tooru’s face and starts tickling him with his free hand, laughter erupting in the room.

“I just wanted to be sweet to you, and this is what I get back?”

“Mm!” Hajime chuckles as he releases his grip on the pillow allowing Tooru to breathe. 

“You better now?”

“Mm...not really...I’m quite annoyed honestly,” he looks up to Hajime’s face in disappointment. Hajime looked at him in confusion, but was cut off before he could say anything. “...Cause you kept missing a spot,” he pouts, pointing to his untouched lips, and hears Hajime sigh in relief. Tooru closes his eyes as Hajime leans in, awaiting for his Prince Charming. But instead of lips, his face again was smacked with a pillow again, pressed down by his lover. 

“Mmm-“ he pushes the pillow away, managing to get it out of his partner’s grasp, ”can you stop doing tha-“

Then Hajime kisses him.

* * *

It’s 11:57pm and they’re cuddling on the bed, legs tangled and hands interwined. 

“Go ask for a day off.”

“Hajimeee...that’s tempting but you know I can’t.” 

“Idiot, you’re pushing yourself too much and you know that, c’mon, Tooru.”

“Nhmm...”

“I’ll take a day off too, we can sleep in tomorrow.”

Tooru thinks for a while and smiles.  
_Fuck that stupid report, anyway._


End file.
